So, what’s up with the cockroaches in that song? Zahn pinged his partner as they waited next to the stairs up to the stage. Despite Ethan’s griping at his antics, he seemed excited to be up on the platform performing for their crowds. The Warlock’s hands wouldn’t stop clenching and opening, drawing the lowbie’s gaze to a certain wrapped digit.

What? Oh, it’s nothing. Just don’t eat anything you find up there. The blond Player was only half paying attention, with his own face scanning the roaring crowd to the backdrop of beasts dying above them.

Zahn nodded silently a moment, trying to make sense of it before giving up. “That’s just stupid,” he finally let out loud. “Why would I pick something up and eat it? I’m not starving, and even if I was, Monster flesh would just be raw and nasty.”

“Bugs are drugs, moron,” Ethan’s reply came just as distracted as his thoughts. “Roaches are similar to ‘roids, and there’s a stand that sells the drugged treats to audience members. Helps them feel the rush and whatnot, just don’t experiment up there. Act your age.”

Blinking at the knowledge, Zahn looked around and found something not unlike a s’more fallen in the sands at his feet. I wonder what my age even is here, anyways. Something like four months? Bending to pick it up, he got a dark slime on his hands just before the other Player slapped it away.

“What did I just say? I mean really, I just said it. Dumbass.”

Giving the less-distracted Ethan a dark side-eye, Zahn let the snack fall back to ground before hiding his stained fingers. “I’m curious. The little ones, mites I think? I saw a sneak eating some of those out of a little tin, and that makes some kind of sense, they’re so small. But something as big as a fuckin’ roach? Eugh. Shell, guts, legs, who could eat that shit?”

The blond sighed, glancing up at the sun before answering. “When you kill an insect, as long as it doesn’t have a level, it’s not really a beast or animal or monster. It’s basically just fauna, the shell sticks around but its insides all melt into a goo. Red for boosting physical, green for boosting speed, blue for mental, and so on. I think there’s fifteen groups? Anyways, it doesn’t last for long and it’s super easy to get addicted to them. The guy you replaced was addicted to ‘squitoes, they upped his ranged accuracy.”

Zahn nodded again, filing the information away as he resisted the urge to wipe his hands clean. “Well that’s gross. I can’t imagine how many roach addicts there are in shitty housing, must have holes punched in every wall.”

Ethan rolled his eyes, pushing off the wall and gesturing at the stairs. “No, the cities are careful about infestations. If the wrong group cultivated a swarm of the right drug-bug, they could wipe out the guards in a day. Apparently there’s a huge market for anything you can smuggle in, moreso if it’s a colony bug and you bring a queen. C’mon, we need to stand up there and be seen until the announcements are done.”

Following up the steps, the Custom got another look at his partner’s wounded hand. “How’s the finger? I’m surprised you wrapped it up instead of just letting regeneration take care of it.”

Heaving another sigh, the ‘lock glared at him in a glance before turning away and sending thoughts through their temporary link. No, I don’t have any Abilities that mend bone on their own. You didn’t just bruise me, asshole, my left hand is down a pointer due to fucking bone fragments. I don’t care how you see killing yourself for a high, I didn’t deserve to lose a finger over it. Asshole.

Feeling a twinge of guilt in his gut, Zahn didn’t reply as they crested the stage. The infamous Five remained proud and exulting in their cheers, weapons held high and waving about. The various animals that had been led up to the killing field were scattered around, the most intact bodies being crushed by the hammer-wielding brute that had ensconced Zahn’s grave into the wall once upon a time. Looking around at the bloody and gore-covered stage, he could see more than a dozen square cracker snacks scattered around as the axe-wielding Three scooped up a treat and gobbled it whole. His face turned red and seemed to swell against his skin as his muscles bulged, straining inside his heavy armor before the large man whipped his weapon up to the sky and roared.

The cheering crowd answered his roar, echoing back loud enough for Zahn to feel his teeth shake. The display went on back and forth as each of the major contestants bellowed to their fans and got shouts of approval in return. Watching the show, he almost missed Ethan’s signal when the Warlock turned to face him. Aside from the top Five, four more groups of duelists entered the stage and prepared to fight. From appearances, it looked like half of the circles had been chosen for the next part, with the champions holding position in the middle as they looked on.

Ethan spread his hands wide and slow, waving them around dramatically before he abruptly brought them together and summoned a weapon he hadn’t shown before. Calling his bound blade to him, the Warlock summoned a black staff just shorter than standard bearing a massive sword on its end. Completed, the thing looked like he’d found a slab of iron retired from its job as a bench press and slapped it onto the end of a quarterstaff. The weapon stood well over eight feet long, its blade at least four feet and nearly a foot wide. The darkened weapon certainly looked imposing, like what he’d expect a giant to use for a normal sword, but its mass and thickness made it horribly unbalanced and to Zahn’s amateur eyes, completely unusable.

The blond defied reason as he easily hefted the greatsword, rotating it at the crossguard to spin the massive weapon around in a display of agility and daring recklessness. Glancing around the stage to see if anyone else was seeing this, Zahn caught sight of the other three groups fighting performing similar feats to show off their prowess and draw attention from the demanding crowds. Looking back at his opponent, the lowbie swallowed a traitorous lump in his throat before wiping his hand over his face and getting a taste of the forbidden cracker. He plucked both daggers from his bag at his hip, hefting the split blade-catcher with trepidation as the insect cocktail kicked in and made his mouth tingle like mad. The tingle spread over his face, making him smile at certain death as a new wave of energy flooded his body and made him want to charge in immediately.

Zahn raised both daggers together, presenting them to his partner before twirling his mage blade into a backwards grip and settling into a half-crouch stance. Let’s do this, toe-head. The other Player seemed taken back for a moment, before Ethan’s face settled into a flat glare as he hefted his blade towards his foe.

“Onto the second stage!” Came an echoing bellow far above, filled with the scumbag Ringmaster’s oily voice. “Our primary victors join the First Five to present their skills, raise their kills, and bring you the greatest entertainment this side of the Sea Gate!” Zahn couldn’t wait to carve a smile in the fat thug’s neck, to open his greasy grin from ear to ear with both blades. “First to fell their opponent wins! Victors to proceed to fight one another until one remains, and that lucky Gladiator will then have the honor of facing the Five until defeated! Three! Two! One!”

Answering the fat man’s shouts, the crowd bellowed as a single voice. “Blood Games!”

Ready as a rubber rabbit, Zahn leapt forwards and cleared the short distance between his blades and prey in a second. Ethan’s eyes widened as he fell back, trying to get enough room to swing his absurd weapon around and build up momentum. Laughing as he sprinted, Zahn found breath coming short and skidded to a slide to pass his foe mid-bewildered-swing. The heavy blade crunched into the wooden stage, sending splinters flying as he tugged it free and spun around to catch the weaker Player’s next strike.

His prancing around did nothing useful, with Zahn rising from his slide into a crouch ready to spew hot death. His mouth opened wide as he sucked in a deep breath, feeling the mana pulsing at his neck ready to kill. In the second before he cast, he felt a moment of detachment as the heat pounding over his skin faded and clarity returned. Hotter. It needs to be hotter. He wasn’t certain if the thoughts came from himself, but in the second he understood they were right and reached for his special trick. Dumping a point of his Willpower into the spell, he felt the pattern bulge and half-choke him as the Empowered spell screamed for air and erupted out of his face.

He slammed back into his body, once again feeling the hot power tingling and racing over his whole form even as his fire spell launched at the blond’s turning shape. His new Flame Breath spell drowned out the crowd, its stream of red-and-orange light blinding him to everything else as it crossed the gap between Players and slammed into the Warlock, pushing Ethan back and driving him to a knee. Zahn felt himself sliding backwards, the sheer force of the cast overpowering his kneeling brace and rocking him on his heels. The spell’s target suffered far worse, trying to block the gout of flame with his greatsword acting as a shield. The thick black sword began to heat up, changing color as the magic poured over it and scorched its wielder in turn.

Zahn felt his mana moving, rising out from his Core and shooting into his victim as transformed flames, feeling like he could power this spell for hours. The rush felt right, like he’d finally begun something he should have been doing for ages, as if he’d finally stepped into a role he was meant for. Rapidly, he found his body didn’t exactly agree as air left his lungs and was devoured by the screaming flames leaving him suffocating under his own magic. Growling at himself for not thinking such a simple step through, Zahn let the spell die as he cut off its flow and found himself gasping for air on his hands and knees as his vision cleared.

Looking up at his target, he found Ethan stagger to unsteady feet and rip his glowing sword from the stage. He wobbled as he tried to lever the massive blade upright, considering the hot metal before he dismissed the thing into midair like unwanted trash. Zahn blinked hard, trying to see clearly past the blotches of color remaining after staring at his flames, unable to make sense of what the Warlock could possibly be doing.

The other Player gave him a level stare before re-summoning the weapon, its color restored and metal already cooled. Zahn heard his voice in his head, from the blond continuing their mental argument. If you actually had a bound weapon, you’d already know dismissing it repairs it a certain percent. Even if you snap this beauty in half, I’ll just re-summon her whole again. You can’t beat me. As if emphasizing his silent speech, Ethan raised his sword up high in both hands, his outline looking like he was trying to cut the sky.

Zahn jumped back, trying to clear some room without slipping on monster guts just before the Warlock sprinted in close. The huge blade turned sideways, the edge now facing the Custom as he danced backwards and tried to keep out of immediate reach. His juice-fueled steps did little to help, with Ethan activating a Skill and closing the gap in a blink. Tracking his opponent with blue-glowing eyes, he could even see the bandage around his finger bulge against the strain of the caster swinging his massive weapon around as the overhead strike swept around from side to side, trying to cut the lowbie in half.

I can’t get clear! Zahn tried not to panic as he saw the blade’s path, the arc coming straight for his hips. I can’t dive to the side, I can’t jump back, I can’t -- he dropped his train of thought as the obvious struck him, making him feel as stupid as he was sure he looked. Of course, I can Jump! I just have to use Skills for once! Triggering the Skill with a thought, he felt his landed leg flex and push off the wooden stage, turning his desperate skip backwards into an arc of his own.

The world seemed to slow, with Ethan’s greatsword cleaving the air between them as his body rose into the air. Zahn hadn’t been working to raise his Jump skill, leaving its power weak compared to a fully-leveled fighter with the same stats, but its leverage was enough. From skipping backwards, he rose from his shoulders then hips, turning a backwards hop into a leap that nearly curved him forwards in his effort to go straight up. He could feel the momentum trying to pull him backwards, the same energy that pulled the blond’s body forwards to strike him even as the Warlock’s eyes tracked Zahn’s new trajectory.

His triggered Skill had helped him avoid instant death, but the threat wasn’t dealt with. Zahn could still clearly see the weapon as it neared, inches from slicing into his unprotected leg and sure to take the limbs with it. Holding mere daggers, he was positive the fight was about to end spectacularly for the crowds when his blood painted the grounds with a fresh coat. His heartbeat of accepting imminent death almost pounded, before anger colored his thoughts red. No fucking way asshole! The rebellion burning in his belly pushed out, letting Zahn strike even as he was certain he would die. His short blades had no chance of reaching his foe, but at very least he knew he could vent against the sword coming to trim his life.

Stabbing downwards with his mage blade, he felt mana drain out his arm on impact as the dagger shattered. Its fragments were still scattering under his fist when the pulse of energy went off, pushing against all surfaces nearby -- including the massive flat side of the huge greatsword.

Time resumed its normal pace, the world shifted into speed and light, and the roar of the crowd once more reached Zahn’s ears. He watched, dumbfounded, as the great black sword blade jolted downwards mid-strike, driven completely beneath his trailing foot and cutting deep into the wooden floor. The crunching sounds shook the ground, sending fistfuls of splinters and wood chips everywhere. Zahn landed hard, feeling a mass of pain from his thigh and stumbling to fall on his back leg. His right fist still tightly clenched a useless handle, with the underside of his arm and the entire right side of his leg peppered with tiny metal fragments from the exploding mage dagger. He could see he’d gained a new Bleeding debuff, and he couldn’t feel his right arm at all.

Looking up in stupor from his counterattack, Zahn met Ethan’s eyes and found similar disbelief registering there. The blond tugged twice at the wedged blade, his mind still processing how he’d managed to miss badly enough to lose his weapon. The Custom sucked a cold, refreshing breath of air as the hot tingles finally faded from his face, and saw the world clearly as if he’d been given a hint by the system that ran Riviana. If he gave his foe time, the other Player would certainly remember he could simply dismiss and re-summon the dreadful weapon, and his mighty effort would be rendered pointless. Adrenaline pounded in his veins, prompting Zahn to take the most immediate answer to solve the incoming threat. Jumping forward as fast as his wounded leg would let him, he used the great blade as a platform to sprint up at Ethan’s face and plant a solid kick with his good leg, enjoying the feeling of a fragile nose caving in under his heel.

128 damage dealt! Zahn used Kick!

Kick has inflicted a Daze!

Dismissing the popups with a blink, he landed heavily on his left leg as he tried to keep his balance. Skidding into another kneel, he chanced a glance back and saw the ‘lock helpless and prone, on his back as he bled and stared listlessly at the sky. This guy really can’t take a hit, can he? Turning from his momentary victory, the Custom spotted something unexpected within reach, sitting right next to an expanding pool of monster blood.

Deliberately not thinking about it, he seized the Cracker Snack and popped it into his mouth, crunching down and chewing as fast as he could without choking. The strange goo almost flowed out past his hand, overflowing his mouth as he tried to gulp down the physical-boosting drugs immediately. Before he could even swallow, the strange hot tingling from before returned and surged, racing through his body like lightning after touching a live wire. Unlike his experiment with house wiring back on Earth, the new feeling didn’t stop at a sharp vibration through his limbs but continued to grow, driving the stinging pains away and making Zahn stand up straight and proud.

“You see that?! Everything I do, I kick ass!” He wasn’t sure who had spoken, but the voice sounded awfully familiar and felt so right. Grinning wide at the celebration, he ran forwards and seized a limb from the ground, torn clear from whatever beast once bore it during the fights. With a clawed paw in one hand and the split blade-catching dagger in the other, Zahn felt like he could take on the whole Collisae and come out on top. I need to challenge that fucking Ringmaster too! Freedom comes today! Mid-stride on his run, he saw his next target and tried not to laugh as he charged in.

Gardor the club-master Barbarian faced off against another of his tribe, one Zahn couldn’t easily identify from the back. It didn’t affect his choice in the slightest, supremely confident his face-mashing friend would rather get his help than take the loss. He felt his mana surging in each limb, the vibrant energy packing inside his skin as he pushed on his Core and the life-giving power responded.

Between his full-body tingling from the cracker snack and the mana packing under his skin, Zahn felt like a vibrating all-powerful ninja. Each step on the wooden stage thumped under his feet like the pounding of drums and ate up the distance between Player and victim. He could see his friend recognize him, and something like concern registering in the huge man’s eyes as the Custom neared with the beast paw raised. Finding a likely target on the wide, bare back he stuck and found purchase, the animal claws digging into taut skin as they skittered and dragged across leaving uneven gashes and drawing rivulets of blood.

Zahn felt his momentum slow, as if the attack he’d sprung on the other fighter’s back had robbed him of his forward speed and he would be stopped if he tried to continue. Feeling the hot energy surging in his legs, the Player tried to resist laughing as he triggered Jump again and rose off the ground, finding an easy stepping stone in the small of his target’s back. Activating the Skill yet again, he found himself nearly sailing away from his victim as he pushed off hard with both legs and sent the man stumbling off-balance into Gardor’s next attack.

Half-rotating in a spin, Zahn landed easily between two piles of gore he briefly recognized as having once been a single monster. Leaning forwards and shoving off hard, he half-stumbled into a run towards the next closest dueling pair, doing his best to keep clear of the currently passive quintet guarding the middle of the stage. In running his circuit, the Custom found he was taking a counter-clockwise path around the edge of the circular platform that brought him neatly to his next victim.

The duo exchanging blows didn’t even glance at him, and he didn’t recognize either of them in turn. He had to juke to the left and nearly dive towards the middle to avoid their clash, with one man’s spear stabbing out and retracting fast enough to make the other practically dance to keep it at bay with his dual wielded short blades. Growling at the rude interruption to his fun, Zahn lashed out with the claws as he rose from a crouch and barked a laugh as the deadly natural weapons cut and pulled at the hamstrings of the closest foe. The larger Gladiator bellowed in pain and surprise, the distraction proving long enough for the spearman to gain a solid hit on his opponent’s midsection.

Rather than sit and exult in his minor victory, Zahn continued his high-speed scramble to charge at the spear wielder during his exertions and slash at the man’s leading arm, nearly scoring his inner elbow. The fighter in question flashed him an incredulous glance as he tried to pull his spear free and avoid the random attack against his arm at the same time.

“Are you insane? What are you doing?!”

Ignoring the stranger and dismissing him as now on-guard, the Player turned on his heel and sprinted away towards the final pair. It looked like these Gladiators were a pair wielding sword and shield, but neither had serious armor for their backs or legs. Hefting the monster limb with a cackle, Zahn drew closer on pounding steps before he felt another thudding vibration drawing far too close. He threw himself to the ground, finding his instincts from falling so often during training kicked in and tucked into a forward roll that let him spring to his feet.

No sooner than he landed, he heard and felt the massive impact on the wooden stage behind him. A breathless glance behind showed him Four had joined his little game, already prying his massive heavy hammer from the shattered boards. The man’s heavy plate armor seemed to do nothing to slow him, as the furious fighter spun and heaved his mighty weapon around once more to pulp the insolent Player.

Zahn Jumped back again, enjoying the feeling of almost flight as he sailed far too high through the air before gravity took its mournful hold once more. He felt the telltale vibration behind his ear, and heard a certain nasty voice rippling through the air from above.

“Fear not, good people! Our resident fire-head has taken up vigilantism, but your heroes will quell the wretched fiend! First Five! Eliminate that pest!”

Finding the wooden stage suddenly restraining, Zahn looked around as the dreadful enforcers of the Ringmaster’s will spread out and stalked towards him, murder in their eyes. He could even see Ethan approaching, having wrested his too-large sword from the planks while he wasn’t looking. Two was easy to spot even as he vanished, but curiously the sneak only strode away and off the stage entirely. A glance to either side showed both the pair he hadn’t touched and the duo he’d thoroughly interfered with had joined the murder squad, with every weapon in sight pointed at his heart.

One leapt into the air, her massive silver-enchanted scythe already arcing through the sky as she readied some spell or another that gave a yellow light to its handle. The pulse pounding in his ears was deafening, the far too rapid beats of his own heart nearly drowning out the ongoing cheers and roars of the restless crowd. Breath came short, the hot humid gasses around him doing little to fill his lungs and bring clarity to mind. He chanced a look backwards off-stage, only to see more than a dozen of his fellow Gladiators waiting for an escape attempt and blocking him in.

The ground shook under his feet, vibrations rattling up both legs from the force his opponents charged at him with and removing any doubt of his imminent death. Snarling back at the face of doom, Zahn opened his mouth wide and sucked in the deepest breath he could handle before dying. His mana burned in his chest, the adrenaline and desperation mixing to demand even more power than he’d already been drawing on. He could feel the pressure under his skin, previously pushing him and swelling him with power pulling back into his chest and up and out, manifesting in glorious fire.

Heaving on his not-stomach’s location, Zahn demanded stronger concentrations of mana from himself and felt the strange organ answer. Dumping his rabid Willpower into the spell, he felt a moment of loss and melancholy as if he’d given up a finger he would never use again, before the cold wave passed and was replaced with blistering heat. He didn’t recognize the spell or its rank, but feeling three points of Investiture spend themselves told him it was stronger than anything he’d spat out before.

An explosion of light robbed his world of color, the force nearly blasting him off the stage as the vacuum demanded air from the world around him and anchored him to the stage with its suction. The noise of the crowd vanished, the roar of flames eating up all the world’s feedback even as it nearly blinded him in its fury. White shapes danced before him, looking like a strange puppet show of shadows being held on the surface of the sun. His deep breath expended itself, nearly making him fall as he felt his chest deflate and sag under the demanded pressure.

Mana still poured out his mouth, streaming flames that gradually manifested into colors he could recognize as his vision began to return. White at the core, the stream of breath he spewed shot forward like a waterfall bent to his will and splashed over the whole stage without mercy. The Five remained, their outlines bracing themselves against his attack and what looked like Ethan laying flat with his too-large blade covering his head like a shield.

Zahn didn’t know how long the spell would have lasted, even as he failed to draw a new breath, but his debate was ended prematurely. He felt something sharp and hot enter his back, abruptly ending his casting as the pain replaced all reason. He couldn’t see past the dark splotches of color before his eyes, but he knew whatever stabbed him was more than enough to take his pitiful remaining health. He collapsed, falling like a marionette with strings cut even as he felt a hand grip his shoulder and force his face into the floor.

“Not smart,” came Two’s voice from somewhere far away. “They won’t forgive you for taking half their health like that. And the crowds will expect even more from you next time. If there is one. Good luck.” As if his dire warning and lecture were merely another part of his day, the sneak wrenched his blades from Zahn’s back and let the Player vanish into a grave.

Zahn jumped to life, panting hard as he slowly recognized the commons he was reborn into. Air never tasted so sweet, and the pounding of blood in his ears had finally subsided. For what felt like an hour, he swayed and gasped for air, hearing nothing but his own breath and the distant sounds of the crowds. Finding the nearest couch, he collapsed onto its cushions and tried to steady his shaking hands.

One of the doors behind him burst open, making his legs jump and depressingly little else. Angry steps heralded his visitor, as Ethan stomped into view with a certain demon imp sitting crouched on his shoulder. “What the fuck was that?” The Warlock didn’t seem interested in small talk, even as his minion burst into laughter. “You were supposed to keep a low profile! Shut up, Iengoris! Did you put him up to this?!”

“Oh, but I wish!” The imp retorted, jumping from his perch onto the hearth and giving Zahn a wide smile. “Ah, if only I had seen it! If my idiot is even close to right, it sounds positively glorious!”

The lowbie favored the imp with a tired smile, still struggling to lift an arm. “Ah, yeah. Shit was tight.”

“Oh, fuck you!” The blond wasn’t having it, stomping around as he paced. “You’re not supposed to just go fighting everyone! Nevermind pissing of the Five, let alone the fucking Ringmaster! I specifically told you, do fucking not eat anything! What do you do? You take fucking roids! If Two hadn’t run around back to take you out, you’d have been fucking banned from competing! Permanently the murder-bitch, do you even understand?! What is so fucking funny?”

Zahn tried not to giggle, but the furiously heaving Ethan wasn’t helping. “But. I won. Sorta.” He lifted a weary hand to stall the next outburst, forcing himself to sit up with a groan. “I didn’t just punch up a rank, dude. I burned them. I burned the Five, and that means I can win against them. I can fight for my freedom.”